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384 THE ADVENTURES OF PHILIP
Mr. Firmin. Family secret—can't say—good-bye. (Exit Mr.
Firmin.)
Mr. Chesham. In my opinion a most ill-advised and intemperate
article. That journal, the Pall Mall Gazette, indulges in a
very needless acrimony, I think.
Mr. Lowndes. Chesham does not like to call a spade a spade.
He calls it a horticultural utensil. You have a great career before
you, Chesham. You have a wisdom and gravity beyond your years.
You bore us slightly, but we all respect you—we do indeed. What
was the text at church last Sunday ? Oh, by the way, Hely, you
little miscreant, you were at church !
Mr. Chesham. You need not blush, Hely. I am not a joking
man; but this kind of jesting does not strike me as being particularly
amusing, Lowndes.
Mr. Lowndes. You go to church because you are good, because
your aunt was a bishop or something. But Hely goes because he
is a little miscreant. You hypocritical little beggar, you got yourself
up as if you were going to a déjeuné, and you had your hair
curled, and you were seen singing out of the same hymn-book with
that pretty Miss Baynes, you little wheedling sinner; and you
walked home with the family—my sisters saw you—to a boardinghouse
where they live—by Jove ! you did. And I'll tell your
mother !
Mr. Chesham. I wish you would not make such a noise, and
let me do my work, Lowndes. You _______
Here Asmodeus whisks us out of the room, and we lose the rest
of the young men's conversation. But enough has been overheard,
I think, to show what direction young Mr. Hely's thoughts had
taken. Since he was seventeen years of age (at the time when we
behold him he may be twenty-three) this romantic youth has been
repeatedly in love : with his elderly tutor's daughter, of course ;
with a young haberdasher at the University ; with his sister's confidential
friend ; with the blooming young Danish beauty last year ;
and now, I very much fear, a young acquaintance of ours has
attracted the attention of this imaginative Don Juan. Whenever
Hely is in love, he fancies his passion will last for ever, makes a
confidant of the first person at hand, weeps plenteously, and writes
reams of verses. Do you remember how in a previous chapter we
told you that Mrs. Tuffin was determined she would not ask Philip
to her soirees, and declared him to be a forward and disagreeable
young man ? She was glad enough to receive young Walsingham
Hely, with his languid air, his drooping head, his fair curls, and his
flower in his button-hole ; and Hely, being then in hot pursuit of
one of the tall Miss Blacklocks, went to Mrs. Tuffin's, was welcomed